The Necklace. 37-42

Chapter Thirty-seven

The sudden flash of light and burst of flame shocked John out of his drugged induced trance. His eyes stung, reddened from the effects of the smoke in the cabin. John cautiously blinked, trying to generate moisture to his irritated eyes.

Finally, he was able to focus.

John surveyed the cabin. He closed his eyes again, trying to convince himself that he was still in the Peyote stupor. His hands snaked out feeling the ground next to him; their search became frenzied, as John felt nothing but dirt. Cordelia was no longer beside him. What he had seen was real.

John rested his eyes on the still, lifeless form of his father. A bellow of sorrow and fury rose from his throat as his mind and heart processed the sight. He scrambled over to the crumpled body of the man that meant everything to him.

The strong, courageous man that had raised him alone after the death of the gentle caring woman that was his mother. The patient, strong man who had taught John what it meant to be a shaman, to be honorable, brave, and to live or die for his people.

John cradled his father’s head in his lap, the tears following freely down his cheeks. John’s pained eyes searched the cabin. Cordelia was gone. His father was dead. All hope for his people, for himself was gone.

Bathym, John’s mind cried out in rage. John knew deep in his soul that the demon was responsible for the tragedy of this day. His heart cried out for the innocent girl who had been trapped in Bathym’s evilness. His heart broke for his father.

John hugged his father’s body closer to his. He tried to concentrate. His father would not want him to give up. John would find away to protect his people from Bathym, to save them. John had to, because now he was the spiritual leader of his people. How? He doubted. How could he take his father’s place?

John gently placed his father on the dirt. With a gentle kiss on the old man’s forehead, John got up.

He could do this. He had to. But where to start, his mind cried. John would call his cousins; they would take and prepare his father for the honorable burial he deserved. John would stay in the cabin searching through his dreams on his own vision quest. The answers would be there.


John prepared himself for his journey into the spirit world. His deep breaths became longer and labored as the walls of the cabin shimmered and slowly faded.

Chapter Thirty-eight

Angel stood in front of Caritas. He leaned heavily on the buzzer. He waited 2 seconds before losing patience and kicking the door in.

“Whoa, tall, dark and gorgeous, ever heard that patience was the virtue of angels? But what’s in a name, umm, Big Guy?” The host came from the back room. His green body was brightly wrapped in a canary yellow silk robe with fire red polka dots splattered all over the dressing gown. The sight momentarily blinded Angel.

“Well, don’t just stand there like an undead pretty blowfish.” The host blew his green cheeks in and out, pursing his lips. His hands moved in dramatic waves motioning Angel to take a seat.

“So what’s with the 911 emergency barge in.” The host nodded to his broken door. “It wouldn’t be that you have misplaced your ‘crumptious Cordelia, would it? You know, AngleCakes, you better learn to keep better care of your sizzlin’ seer, or the PTB may just take her back and give her to a more appreciative warrior.”

The green demon flipped his hands at Angel’s growl, brushing it away as if it was a tangible object. “Just jokin’, jeez, jokin’…well may be not, but that’s an red alarm flash for another day, if you don’t watch it.”

“Cordelia, where is she?”

“Don’t know. Only know where Cordydoll isn’t? Seems the PTB, haven’t seen fit to clue me in to the whole whopping tamale. But I do know that she’s no longer with the brawny brave; he lost her. There seems to be another bad ass player, as in demon, on the good vs. evil playing field.”

“Who?” Angel growled.

“Haven’t clue, just know he is one of the demon bad guys and that the bodacious brave is one of the good guys. A regular white hatted Tonto-type.”

“Good? He took Cordelia from me and he is not bodacious, whatever that means.” Angel snarled.

“Sorry Angelcakes, the brave is good, just lacking your resources, namely me,” the host grinned. “And I do think you know what bodacious means, but just in case it, means he’s a hottie. Right up Cordydoll’s alley.” The host sighed and gazed up to the ceiling. “Ah, what a sumptuous couple they would make. Eek,”

The host exaggeratedly swung up his hand to ward off Angel’s growl. “Curb, your fanged green-eyed issues, I was just jokin’, well sort of, but again a topic that should wait until another day. AngelCakes, you need the brave. So, halt with the mad vamp rage routine. I like a little force just like the next guy, but the brawny brave needs to remain intact, comprende.”

“If I knew where the doctor was I wouldn’t be here listening to your nonsense.”

“Ouch a shot to the heart. But you do know, no dim bulbs in English’s pretty head. Big Guy, you better get speedy, the suns a rising,” the host’s tone became less flippant, “Your seer needs you.”

Angel growled and rushed out.

“Have fun stormin’ the teepee,” the host called, after the retreating vampire.

Angel made it back to the Hyperion, before the first rays of sun reached the sky.

Chapter Thirty-nine

Angel shoved at Wesley.

“Err, wha..t,” Wesley blinked and rubbed at his tired eyes. His hands flapped around on the coffee table, searching for his glasses.

Angel ignored him and started to push at Gunn. The black man jumped up from the chair he had been sleeping in. He automatically grabbed for his stake. “What’s up?” Gunn’s yelped, his eyes barely open.

“The cabin. We have to go,” Angel ordered.

“The host, what did he say? Is Cordelia there?” Wesley asked urgently, pressing down at his clothes. He paused as he looked down. He hadn’t been asleep long enough for the slightest crease to mar his clothes.

“No, the doctor doesn’t have her anymore.” Angel spit. Angel swore that when he found Cordelia and he would find her, Cordelia would never leave the Hyperion again. The hotel had plenty of room. Angel would make sure she had everything she needed.

Well, that may be a tad bit unreasonable, Angel thought. He would let her leave, he thought magnanimously, just not alone, never alone and never with anyone but the vampire. Angel just couldn’t trust anyone else to keep his seer safe. Everybody else just lost her.

“Did she escape? Is she alright,” exclaimed Wesley.

Angel growled. “She has been kidnapped, again.” Compressed rage rippled through his body. Angel was going to kill somebody.

“Uh,” “What” both Gunn and Wesley shot Angel a puzzled look.

“Angel, if the Professor doesn’t have Cordelia, why are we going to the cabin…Who has her?”

“More like a what. Move it, I’ll explain what I can in…” Angel’s voice trailed off into small growls. Damn, drama demon. Angel didn’t understand why the PTB and their lounge lizard link couldn’t have been clearer. Didn’t they realize that Cordelia’s life was at stake? Angel took several deep unneeded breaths. He had to calm down. But he really wanted something, someone, some anything to destroy. Angel took another breath.

He couldn’t very well pummel Gunn and Wesley and for some obscure reason it seemed that he wouldn’t be able to kill the doctor. Angel growled. What exactly did ‘intact’ mean? Did the Professor really need the use of his legs? Wouldn’t leaving him with the ability to talk be sufficient? Angel would have to think about that. Nevertheless, the new player was fair game. A slow growl vibrated in his chest, growing in depth and volume as it reached his throat. Angel could wait.

Gunn moved further away from the vampire and closer to Wesley. “Um, Wes, I think Angel is having a moment,” he whispered to his friend.

Wesley slowly nodded. He would have to agree with Gunn. The only sounds coming from the vampire were short snarls, his demon visage flicked involuntarily across his face. Then the vampire emitted a deep growl, and a wicked grin appeared on his demon face. Wesley didn’t know what Angel’s was thinking about, but it was causing a definite moment, a particularly vicious moment. Wesley didn’t want to know.

“Um, Angel,” Wesley interrupted cautiously.

Angel’s gold stare shot towards Wesley.

“You were saying,” Wesley prodded.

Angel shook his head, ridding his mind of the imagines of his hands tearing off limbs, breaking bones and ripping flesh off the still warm body of an unknown demon. “We don’t have time, I’ll explain in the car,” he ordered, his now dark brown eyes glaring at his friends. “Gunn, go make sure that the windows are dark enough. Wesley, go get any research materials on any demons related to the Hopi. I’ll gather the weapons.”

“Angel, I don’t think I have….” Wesley started.

“Improvise, now hurry.” Angel strode over to the weapon’s cabinet.

“Improvise,” Wesley grumbled to himself. In order to improvise, one must have the basic knowledge and material to contrive the improvisation.

If one had nothing, one got nothing. Angel had no clue as to the intricacies involved researching. Wesley sighed and went to his library.

There were centuries upon centuries of knowledge bound in those texts. At least one of them must have some relevant information. Wesley just hoped he chose the right one.

Chapter Forty

John stood in the middle of a barren desert. He could feel the hot sun penetrating his skin. He waited.

Soon, a cougar appeared over dune. His lean sinewy body leaped and ran forward. The wild cat did not stop until he reached the Indian. John acknowledged his power animal with a nod.

The animal purred his welcome and moved on. John followed his guide across the scorching sand. After awhile, John started to notice bright green life sprouting up through the desert. John stared; the blades of plant life were not usual for his spirit domain. The greenery became plusher as they traveled on.

The cougar ran ahead, finally pausing on the outskirts of a forest. As soon as, John caught up with him, the cat entered the band of trees. John followed the cougar through a path in the forestry. John felt like he had been walking for hours.

John stopped as he heard screams of acute suffering filtering through the trees. The sounds pierced through his skull, causing his head to pound and his stomach to turn. The wild cat turned to the outcries. John paused; he didn’t want to go any nearer. He wanted to run as far as he could away from the yells of pain.

The wild cat waited patiently urging the Indian on. John forced his feet to move.

Johns pace slowed even more as they came to a dense opaque wall. Faces of the suffering swirled and banged against the barrier. John stumbled back, preparing to run. The cougar circled his body, pushing him to the front. John stared at the wall; he looked down and noticed a wolf lying against the boundary.

A small bird rested upon the wolf’s rich brown fur. He gasped as the wolf gazed up; her eyes were warm brown with gold and green specks. They were so sad. The wolf considered John as if to weigh his measure, to judge him. Her beautiful head turned back to the wall. A sense of unexplainable dread overwhelmed the Indian. She had judged him and found him wanting.

The bird began to flutter her small wings; she beat them faster rising her body in the air. The humming bird swooped down and around the wolf’s head urging her to look up. The bird dodged the canine’s haphazard snap. The cougar approached the wolf, lay down on his belly and softly mewed.

The humming bird flew, buzzing down at the wolf. With a dejected incline of her head, she acknowledged the cat’s inquiry. The canine labored to her feet, moving closer to the wall of souls. Her muzzle penetrated the barrier; the bird swooped in closer, her wings fluttered through the energy field.

The wails lessened. Suddenly, the wolf turned and leapt on to the path, responding to the cougar’s request. The humming bird swooped down and around the wolf’s head, in constant movement.

“Those are Cordelia’s spirit animals?” John asked in awe. Who was Cordelia that her spirit animals could not only withstand the suffering cries, but could ease the souls’ pain?

The cougar’s wise eye’s confirmed the Indian’s question. “Where is she?” John looked around searching for the young woman. John had never heard of power animals being present in a dream place with out their human counterparts.

The cat mewed and bounded after the wolf and bird.

John didn’t understand, but he followed.

The wolf slowed and started to bark. The humming bird shot off towards the trees. In seconds, she was back flying in circles around the wolf.

John stared as a tiger peered through the greenery. The great cat lumbered on to the path, snarling. The bird buzzed down, pecking the cat, then soaring up in the air. The tiger growled up at the bird, as she dove again, the bird swerved and pecked again. John could swear that the bird was laughing. He glanced at the wolf; she was sitting on her back legs, her jaws opened in a wide toothy grin.

From behind the tiger hopped a rabbit. The rabbit wrinkled his nose at the big cat. The tiger moved his much larger body to let the rabbit pass. The humming bird swooshed down, brushing her rapidly beating wings against the animal’s fur. The rabbit twitched his ears, flicking the small bird away. The bird ignored the movement and continued to caress at the fur.

John couldn’t decide if either one of their actions were done in affection or annoyance. With a nose wrinkle, the rabbit took long leap away from the bird, landing in front of the beautiful wolf. The rabbit waited, wiggling his whiskers. With a gentle yap, the wolf got to her feet and moved ahead. The humming bird returned in a flash to her hovering position over the wolf’s head. The rabbit hopped quickly along, the tiger moved in behind the rabbit.

The cougar ushered John along the path, behind the small group of animals.

The wolf’s pace slowed to standstill and she whimpered softly. The humming bird fluttered and buzzed furiously, heading in and out of the trees. The wolf’s soft sighs and the beating of the humming bird’s frantic wings were the only sounds present in the forest. The rabbit and the tiger sat and waited.

John attempted to step onward, he was curious as to what had caught the animal’s attention. The cat moved closer to the Indian, his sturdy body blocking John’s movement.

John started to tense as the soft noises magnified the utter stillness of the others. He didn’t know what he became aware of first the twin glowing orbs piercing out of the darkness or the rumble of a harsh growl filling the air.

Slowly, a huge, coal- black male wolf glided out of the trees. The male canine wasn’t as large as the tiger, but almost. The wolf was huge, the biggest that John had ever seen. There was absolute no color to the animal, other than the black fur that covered his powerful body. Except gold, the wolf’s eyes burned deep gold.

The female wolf gave a joyful bark. The dark beast turned his noble head, giving the other wolf a reverent look. The humming bird soared into the sky, only to shoot back down directly towards the black wolf. The beast’s eyes tuned into the rapidly descending bird. John moved forward, afraid that the wolf’s great jaws would snap the little bird into two.

The cougar’s body pressed harder against the Indian preventing his movement. The tiger and rabbit glared at John. John’s eyes widened he never thought that a rabbit could be considered dangerous, but the hare’s gaze was definitely one of warning.

The humming bird swept back up, then dove again, circling and buzzing around and under the wolf’s muscled legs, then flying up to flutter only inches from the beast’s jaws. The dark wolf stood absolutely still, not endangering the little bird in anyway. The humming bird took off and again made fast spirals around the wolf’s large head, finally she landed on his muzzle. The tiny bird and the wolf stared at each other intently.

With a quick flutter and brush of her wings the humming bird took flight, swirling her way back to the chocolate colored wolf, taking her place again above the female wolf’s head. The beast’s golden gaze never left the little bird until it reached the other wolf. Piercing gold eyes met warm brown ones. John did a double take, he could have sworn that giant canine had smiled. But that was impossible.

Suddenly, the black beast flashed his gaze to the Indian. A dangerous snarl rolled from his throat. With grace and strength, the wolf menacingly stalked towards the man. Just as suddenly, the rabbit hopped in from of the advancing wolf. The rabbit wrinkled his nose and flicked his ears at the great animal. The wolf scowled at the smaller animal.

In amazement, John watched the rabbit stand, extending his body to all of 1 ½ feet, twitching and moving any an all parts of his body that would wiggle. With each low snarl the wolf made, the rabbit’s fidgeting became more pronounced in an almost lecturing manner. The wolf listened for a moment, then glared at the hare. The dark animal moved past the smaller animal, careful not to hurt the rabbit.

Without warning, the humming bird buzzed wildly up in the air and swerved to take a kamikaze dive towards the wolf, then she veered up at the last moment. The tiny bird took another dive, skimming the wolf’s body. The female wolf barked loudly and nudged her muzzle in a disapproving manner at larger male. With what could only be described as a frustrated growl, the large beast turned away from John.

The female playfully bumped into the male, barking happily. The black wolf gave a disgruntled snort and led the way up the path. The female ran up behind him teasing and nipping at his heels. The humming bird buzzed rapidly between the wolves never staying above one for long. The male strode forward, ignoring the two’s antics. The female continued to bark, finally after getting no response from the male, she sat and started to groom herself. The humming bird stayed with the female buzzing in one place. The male wolf hesitated and barked once. The female ignored him, finding great interest in licking and smoothing out her rich fur.

The rabbit and tiger, who had been slowly following, stopped. The rabbit stood impatiently patting his foot on the ground. The tiger shifted his great bulk uncomfortably from side to side.

The male let out a long-suffering grunt and slowly turned back to the female. He strode over to her and sat on his hunches. He barked softly, reaching out his noble head and stroked it along side of the other wolf.

With a pleased yelp, the beautiful wolf stood on all fours and bounded ahead. The humming bird once again began to buzz back and forth from wolf to wolf. The male quickly overtook the female.

The rabbit and tiger looked at each other. The rabbit twitched his whiskers to the tiger and the cat responded by rolling his head and getting to his paws.

John looked questioningly at his spirit guide for some explanation to the scene he had witnessed. The cougar merely started to follow the other animals. Confused, John took after them.

Soon, the group emerged from the forest into a rolling meadow.

“Son,” the wise one called.

“Wise One,” John fell to his knees.

The ancient Shaman shook his head. “There is no need and no time.” He motioned to the brown wolf and the humming bird to come to him.

The black beast growled, threatening the ancient Indian. The tiny bird circled the dark wolf twice before going to the Shaman. The female barked and rubbed her head against the growling animal. With a quick nudge, she ran after the bird to join the sleek jaguar at the Shaman’s side.

The black wolf snarled and bared his fangs, but did not move.

The shaman studied the beast, then turned to John. “Look to them, now. They are our hope. They will come.” He pointed to the fierce coal-black wolf, the rabbit and the tiger.

The scenery around John began to dissolve. Wooden walls flickered, at first weakly, then solidifying. John struggled to awake. John tried to concentrate and adjust to the merging physical world. But it was difficult, his mind felt disoriented, his jaw ached and his whole body shook violently.

John slowly opened his eyes. A face stared back at him. John gasped as his body shook again, the force of the motion hurting his whole being, threatening to pull him apart.

The face that had been staring intently at him winced and turned.

“Angel, stop,” Wesley pleaded. “He’s waking up. We need him alive remember.”

With a growl, the force that had been damaging his body stopped. John turned and stared into deep fierce brown eyes.

“Professor,” a voice called.

John turned back to the first face.

“Mr. Wyndham-Price?” John asked.

“Um, yes, Professor, we need you to wake up.” Wesley answered.

“Yeah, man, you better or Angel will take a go at it again.”

John searched for the new voice. He eyes widened as he recognized Gunn.

John scooted back away from the men in the cabin. He stared at them processing their appearance. Wesley was standing next to Gunn, each of them looking at him and then to Angel. Angel stood off to the side watching, the inner violence apparent in his motionless body.

John had found the rabbit, tiger and the dangerous beast. Now, John just had to get them to help him.

Chapter Forty-one

Cordelia struggled in and out of consciousness. Cordelia groaned trying to focus. But it was hard. Her mind hurt, her body hurt her toes even hurt. What was wrong with this scenario? Cordelia tried to think.

Okay, Angel, he was the last thing she really remembered. He was ordering her out of the hotel. Being all bossy and unreasonable…. and a little scary. Where was he? She needed him. Cordelia slowly opened one eye; she winced as the small movement aggravated the banging of her brain up against her skull.

Fine, she acknowledged with a grumble, Angel wasn’t around. Okay, what else? Cordelia scrunched both of her eyes tighter, willing the pounding in her head to cease. Cordelia gulped a deep breath of air. Not only was her head pounding, but also her stomach was woozy and wheeling, she was going to be sick, majorly.

What was wrong with her? Why was she so ill?

John, she thought. He had taken her to a diner, fed her coffee…and her world then became even freakier than just Angel being all mean. John had drugged her. And then, the old Indian had drugged her again. And the old guy had the bad taste of showing up in her dream.

Then the old guy got himself killed by a very tough and nasty acting demon.

Oh boy, was that real or was that a dream. Cordelia wasn’t sure. She suppressed the aches in her head and body. Okay, she sighed. Cordelia opened one eye, again and looked about. She quickly closed it. She wasn’t in the diner, or the weird smoked filled room that the old Indian had been in, and she wasn’t in her dream place.

Cordelia took a deep breath and opened both eyes. She was in a small dark room with concrete walls and floor. There were no windows or any sign of light. This was even more bizarre and freaky than everything else she had experienced or had she just imagined it.

Damn, Cordelia needed somebody to tell her if this was a dream or real. Her head was still so fuzzy. Well, she thought, a scream always got attention before. So, she yelled.

The door flew open. A thin bald man stood in the doorway.

“Good, you are awake.”


“Still under the influence,” The man turned to go out the door.

“No, wait,” Cordelia struggled up to a seated position. “Where am I?’

The man stared at her and said proudly, “You are with Bathym.’”

“Huh, who”

“Bathym, the great, the all powerful, the…”

“Cut the laying it on thick,” Cordelia retorted. She shimmed up the wall, her hands grasping at her head. “Just stick to Who, What, and Where? I’ll even forgo the How for now. Answer one or all, but answer,” she glared at the man.

“I think you are sufficiently awake” The man left.

“Well, duh,” she screamed lunging at the closing door. Cordelia rammed up against the solid barrier. Her body fell crumpling to the ground.

She held her head as she pushed herself off the floor. Okay, she was awake; this was real, she thought as she patted at her aching limbs. So, she was somewhere unknown, being held captive by someone unknown. Cordelia fell back on her backside, crunching up her legs.

How was she supposed to be saved if no one knew where she was? How was Angel supposed to find her? She didn’t know where she was, how could Angel?

Okay, Cordelia Chase, she thought, maybe it was time too save yourself, without the help of Angel. Damn it, she pounded on the ground. She was really mad at the vampire, but she would give real money, a lot of real money, if he barged through that door right now. Cordelia looked up expectantly at the door.

She grumbled, no barging, no any damage, the vampire wasn’t there. Okay, if she couldn’t have Angel, then she would at least like to know why she was trapped in a dark, dank cell. And why a boney, skinny dweep of a human had the key.

Chapter Forty-two

“Little girl, you are awake, good,” bellowed Bathym. The large human shaped demon entered the room. Cordelia’s eyes widened as she recognized the demon that had killed the old Indian in her dream place.

“What’s your definition of good?” Cordelia retorted. “Nevermind, who are you? What do you want? Eww,” she screeched involuntarily as she witnessed the demon’s long spindly tail whip out from behind his body.

Bathym ignored the girl’s outburst and leaned in to look at the necklace around Cordelia’s throat. “I’ve been waiting for this moment. This necklace is mine.”

“Uh, no. The necklace is mine.” Argued Cordelia, scooting further away from the demon.

“You aren’t a descendent of the Wise One, the necklace is not yours.” He claimed, snaking his long serpent tail around Cordelia’s waist dragging her closer. He grabbed at the piece of jewelry, pulling roughly at the necklace.

“Eww, and like you are,” she retorted, glancing at his long wiry tail. Owww, stop,” Cordelia cried, clutching at the demon’s arms, wiggling her body against his tail’s tightening coiling hold.

Bathym dropped his grasp. Cordelia fell to the ground her hands rubbing at her throat. The necklace still firm around her.

The demon hissed and reached again for the necklace. He tugged and pulled with all of his strength. Cordelia’s body moved with each of his yanks. She choked and yelled at each pull. The necklace wouldn’t budge.

“Inconceivable,” the demon raged, his tail snapping in the air.

“Obviously, wrongo. It won’t come off so stop your manhandling,” gasped Cordelia.

Bathym leaned in reciting some obscure words. A flash of blue light hit the necklace instantly a white light reflected it back. The demon grunted as the flare burst in his eyes. Bathym blinked. The young girl had been thrown up against the wall, but she still wore the necklace.

Cordelia gasped and choked, bringing her body up again against the wall.

“No,” the demon raged. “Inconceivable.” Bathym struck out, a knife suddenly appearing in his hand. The knife penetrated Cordelia’s chest. She screamed as the sharp blade sliced into her body.

Cordelia stood slumped against the wall. She watched in shock as the blade entered and exited her chest. . Amazement replaced the shock as a glowing white light pierced through the wound, slowly the wound began to heal it’s self.

“Who are you,” the demon screamed.

“Why is every one messing with me, then asking that? “ Cordelia gasped, falling again to the ground.

The demon spit at the young woman then snapped his fingers. Instantaneously, the skinny human appeared. “Yes, Master,” the man said timidly.

“Reinfold, she is a descendant of the Wise One.” He yelled.

“She is?” the man said in disbelief. “Um, I don’t think so. I checked,” the skinny human defended. “The old Shaman only had one son, John Red Bear. He’s the only direct descendent of the Wise One, now that you have, well killed his father.”

“She has to be. I can’t take the necklace or kill her.” the demon demanded.

Reinfold shrugged. “I do not understand, Oh, imperious one.

Master, let me try,” begged the human. “I could cut her head from her shoulders, then the necklace would have to come off.”

The demon considered the suggestion. “I don’t know, if she is protected then you can’t kill her either. As one of my followers you couldn’t harm her. But…Try it, what can it hurt.”

“Hey, Whoa, it could hurt a lot,” Cordelia yelled. Cordelia glanced at the now healed wound on her chest. How would that work if her head were off her neck? Would her head pop back on and start to reattach itself? “No way,” she yelled scrambling back further up against the wall.

“Do it,” ordered Bathym.

The human strode over to Cordelia. He grabbed a handful of hair and yanked, pulling the young girl up to her feet. With a quick flick of his wrist, he drew the knife across Cordelia’s skin. As each cut dug deeper, the white light healed.

Cordelia struggled wildly against his grip, tears falling at each slice. The blade cut through her neck like a carving knife through a piece of holiday meat. The sounds of her flesh being ripped echoed in her ears. Cordelia choked in pain as each gash appeared and disappeared.

“Enough,” Bathym yelled angrily. “Some how she is protected, she cannot be killed by my power. Leave her,” he stormed out the door. The human tossed Cordelia to the floor, locking the door as he followed his master out.

Cordelia curled in a small ball, her body convulsing in agony. Her hands reached up to touch the torn flesh. Her fingers tingled as the lacerations continued to repair themselves. Cordelia rapidly swallowed then gagged as rising waves of nausea flowed through her body. Cordelia crouched on all fours her body jerking harshly as she threw up blood and bile. Her stomach finally empty, she curled up in the fetal position, her arms clutched tightly around her body, trying to contain the violent shaking that racked her aching body.

Cordelia sobbed as her body and mind, overwhelmed by the trauma shut down.

Bathym angrily paced back and forth. “Inconceivable,” he grumbled.

“Master, you keep using that word, I don’t think it means what you think it means.” Reinfold turned purple at the demon’s glare. “Um Master,” he tried again, “possibly we could hire someone to kill her. Someone that has not the wisdom to follow your powerful being.” He bowed effusively.

The demon stopped his pacing and studied Reinfold. “Possibly,” he nodded. “Though, such attempts have failed before on those that possessed the necklace. No,” he pondered. “No, the charm protects its wearer from my powers and influence. But, there must be a way to retrieve the necklace.”

“Accidental death, random killing…Maybe we could leave her out in the red light district or in demon town. Someone or something would probably kill her.” The human suggested helpfully.

“Too uncontrollable,” Bathym negated. “We have to be sure of the girl’s death and the retrieval of the necklace.

“Master, how did the previous shaman’s die? I mean, if you weren’t able to kill them?”

“Natural causes. The wear and tear on their puny human bodies as they used the power to heal.”

The gaunt human nodded. “How about if I just keep wounding her over and over again, until she well, dies.”

“It would take too long.”

“But, Master you have waited so long, what’s a while longer,” the puny human reasoned.

“No,” he roared. “The necklace is mine. I’ll not wait. There must be a way. The son,” Bathym’s voice trailed, his eyes glazing over. “The son is attempting contact the Wise One.”

In a cloud of smoke the demon disappeared.

Chapter 43

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